


Caesura

by CreamoCrop



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamoCrop/pseuds/CreamoCrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills from Tumblr</p>
<p>Chapter 1: His and Her Circumstance</p>
<p>Her hands are smarting and the sensation only added to the heavy feeling weighing down in her heart. It’s unfair how she’s the one experiencing the full effect of the slapping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caesura

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fills from Tumblr. 
> 
> Chapter 1: Inspired by the song Flaws and Ceilings by Frank Hamilton feat. Lauren Aquilina - prompt from mayacakaia

**His and her circumstance**

* * *

 

**_I’ve got flaws, he’s got ceilings_ **

“How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with and how dare you betray the love of your friends! Say you’re sorry!”

She had always known. She graduated top of her class and she works at the oldest and one of the best teaching hospitals in the country,  _of course_  she knows. However, she thought he was finished with it.

She  _believed_ that he was finished with it.

 

But an addictive personality never goes away. He had never quit smoking, no matter how proud he seems to be when he shows off his nicotine patches. He always gambles, not with money, but with his life. He can’t resist any puzzle. _Hell,_  he  _died_ because of a puzzle. He will always be an addict, one way or another. It is one of his demons that comes as a package with his brilliant mind.

Yet she thought he can stay off of drugs.

**_When he wakes, I’m still dreaming_ **

* * *

 

**_I’ve got doors, he’s got windows._ **

**“** Stop that. Just. Stop it. **”**

It’s an echo of that Christmas. He says horrible things as a form of defense mechanism. She knows that now, but it does not lessen the pain nor does it excuse him. However, unlike that awful night, she now knows how to steel herself and not stray from the real issue. She does have half the mind though, to go back to her office and slip the ring that she had just took off, and slap him one more time.

 The pain will be lessened by his high anyway.

Her hands are smarting and the sensation only added to the heavy feeling weighing down in her heart. It’s unfair how she’s the one experiencing the full effect of the slapping. It’s unfair how John tries to tell him that all he has to do is talk to them, while he makes a petty excuse that it’s for a case, all the while acting like they don’t understand him.

Yes, she is not a genius like him. She does not know what it feels like to know everything, even the details that no one would want to know. She does not know what it feels like to be hounded by your own brain. But she had already told him.

_“I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see you.”_

Surely he still remembers.

Hopefully he remembers enough to know that she can still see him.

**_I see in, but only he knows what goes on underneath the ceiling._ **

* * *

 

**_I wonder what he’s thinking_ **

* * *

 

**_I read books, she writes stories_ **

He had always known. Well, at least he had deluded himself into thinking that he had always known. However in much the same way that it took John saying it in his face before he realizes that the doctor considers him as his bestfriend, it took a ruined night and an unopened Christmas gift for him to realize the identity of the man that could turn her into a “little mouse”.

He had of course read her blog, but he never made it past the second entry. He  _still_ hasn’t made it past the second entry. The cats were simply too distracting and she was simply too honest.

Now however, when his cheeks are both bearing a lovely shade of red, he wonders what happened to the little mouse. She did not scream nor did she show any other form of violence except for the slapping. She’s just standing in front of him, hands on her sides, lips grim and eyes full of emotions that he does not want to identify.

But of course he identifies, because he can’t stop it. It’s not a tap that can be turned off.

If he was any less higher, he could probably name off all of those emotions. But now, while she’s saying something about gifts, only one word kept repeating in his mind.

_Disappointment._

**_She’s so calm, when I’m angry._ **

* * *

 

**_I’m not sure what she sees in me._ **

It’s Christmas all over again. He said it even before he could think of the repercussions. It’s his defense mechanism. She slapped him three times so he earns the right to say something about the failed engagement. But then again he is a high functioning sociopath who really is  _high_ , so he knows he didn’t really earn anything. He might actually have lost something after making that tirade.

A booming voice in his head says he didn’t – that he never will. For she is Molly and he is Sherlock and this is the dance  _he_ had destined them into.

All of this is him.

He had made her see.

“ _You can see me._ ”

He wish he didn’t. He is a selfish man standing in front of a woman wearing no engagement ring and he is  _definitely_ happy with its absence because of another reason other than it will lessen the pain that he honestly didn’t fully feel.

However, she deserves to be happy so she doesn’t have to know.

He for once, he will keep his silence.

**_Won’t tell her what I’m thinking._ **

* * *

 

**_I wonder what she’s thinking_ **

* * *

 

…

…

…

**I wanna be inside your heart**

**(So let me in)**


End file.
